Strength

I guess I will never truly learn how to move on and write with an open heart about the significant moments in my life if I do not, or cannot, look back at the bitter and difficult episodes of 2013. Yes, I CURSE this year with so much passion and hatred. I am happy yet scarred, relieved but still healing, because 2013 is gone.

You see, 2013 was the year I lost Papa. As of this writing, my eyes still well up in tears. Because, how do you ever get over the loss of someone who has been there all your life? You never do. I know I never will, but each day makes me stronger. The pain has still that same intensity, but I am stronger than before and I can handle it better with each passing day. But, there are times that no matter how strong you have become, the memories still strip you off of it, and you break into pieces all over again. Then, once the tears have stopped, you gather that strength stripped off of you, and you try to get more of it, especially from the people you love.

I guess this same strength was what Papa showed during the last moments of his life. He had a stroke, and because of that, nerves on his brain ruptured. He was operated. He opened his eyes the next day after his operation. I was in Cebu the night it happened, and would be flying out to Bacolod the next day to prepare for the twins' party in two days. He even saw me visiting him and he recognized me. He smiled and I said "Ok lang Pa ah, wala kaso" then he nodded his head and closed his eyes smiling.

Two days after, he slept and did not wake up for a long time. He had to be operated again because fluids cannot get out from his head due to blood clots. (This happened while we were celebrating the 1st birthday of the girls. It was a bittersweet event, one that I will always owe to them.) After 2 days, Papa opened his eyes again. Papa was a fighter. He was strong. I know it. But I guess destiny had other plans, because another complication came up and he just had to give up. His spirit is willing, but perhaps his body could not take it anymore. His lungs collapsed, oxygen was at a minimum and he had to be operated again. It was then in the operating room that he had a cardiac arrest and the doctors were not able to revive him. That was the time that I prayed the hardest in my entire life, but I do not know until now, why the answers I sought were not given. I was hoping that the prayer I prayed the hardest would give me a miracle that I would have promised to share to everyone. Apparently, a different kind of story would have to be shared.

Recalling this breaks me, all over again. But I had to confront the demons that are my memories because they are already a part of my life story. I was devastated and shattered. If not for my family and friends, especially my daughters, I would not know where to hold on to. It was then that we had to leave the girls in Bacolod for some time, while we try to decide how we would settle. Those were difficult moments. Having to mourn a loss of your life hero - the one who was there all your life, juggling work, missing your children, being a mother, being a support to your own mother and siblings, determining where to settle, being doubtful to my own faith and wondering if He does exist, and trying to keep my sanity, I cannot imagine now how I got past all these.

I guess each day does make you stronger, but you do need your life support - family, friends even relatives who I never expected to help out, came and gave their full support. With that, I am forever grateful.

It was a "light at the end of tunnel" upon the girls' arrival back in Cebu. However it was a bit short-lived as they acquired foot&mouth disease (not the same as with the cows), and we had no idea where they got. It was a challenge since it was difficult for them drink from their milk bottle because of the mouth sores. But my girls are brave little soldiers and they got past the disease with flying colours. Everything went well, until come September when a new yaya came and gave us all the "pink eye". Yes, everyone. My husband, my cousin and I were off from work for two weeks. Ariana had it worst as she developed preseptal cellulitis and got hospitalized because of it. September was a bad month for us. 

When October came, I was hopeful. Then my husband had fever for several days. It turned out to be dengue. I was somehow relieved that the kids did not suffer the same but worried for my husband. I had to juggle my time in between work, the kids at home and visiting my husband at the hospital. There was a night that he slept there alone. It was on the night of October 14, 2013 that I decided to sleep at the hospital, planning to go home early morning because the kids were alone with the yayas. It was on the morning of October 15, around 8:15am after we had breakfast and I was about to go home when the earthquake struck. At first the 5th floors were shaking, then it swayed. It was the longest 30 seconds of my life and I was frozen standing while thinking about the kids. When the swaying stopped I almost panicked while looking for my phone and called at home. I was thankful the call went through quickly and my yaya said they were all safe. Everyone in the hospital had to get out of the building. The magnitude of the earthquake at the epicenter was recorded at M_w 7.2 in Sagbayan, Bohol. Some buildings and old churches in Cebu and Bohol were destroyed. My husband and I had to stay on the street in front of the hospital until afternoon because they had to be sure the hospital building was safe. It was heartbreaking to see patients, from babies to elderly ones in critical conditions, having to survive the trauma, stress and the lack of hospital facilities after the quake. The first night was a sleepless one for me, as I have to put a glass of water in front of me to see if the shaking was due to the numerous aftershocks that followed or if I had this post traumatic stress of imagining that the ground is shaking. It was a long time before I got over the phobia of these aftershocks. Nevertheless, we decided to put the kids first back in Bacolod to be sure of their safety.

Everything is getting back to normal until November came. There was a weather forecast that a super typhoon would be coming. But no one expected the wrath that Yolanda brought. It was only 2 days after, when the power was restored that I learned about the massive casualty the super typhoon brought about. Cebu City may not have been hit directly, but the northern areas of Visayas, especially Tacloban had the biggest and gravest casualties and damages. It was perhaps the Filipino faith and resilience that made us survive this catastrophe, and everyone managed to even help out. It was devastating to know of stories from the victims who lost their loved ones and their properties. On the other hand, hope does spring eternal, especially when we see everyone trying to give whatever they can offer to uplift those who are in their darkest moments.

Looking back at all these, I guess the wounds that 2013 brought are still there, though they are healing. It may take some time. At first, I was afraid to move on because I thought I would be forgetting Papa. But I was wrong. Even in my dreams, he told me in his own "cool, astig" way that I should move on. That was why the very next day, I wore my red shoes. My faith was shaken, even broken. But I have been slowly restoring it. I admit, I still have doubts especially when I remember those dark times, but I keep on trying to hold on to what I have already rebuilt. 

I am THANKFUL after all, not to 2013 (hell no!), but I am, to my family, my friends and our relatives who, through our most difficult and darkest of times, did not fail to let go. I think this is what real strength is all about. 

And to my dearest Papa, I love you and I miss you, every day. You have been and will always be in our hearts, in my heart. I know this will reach you in heaven.